dealing with it
by GingerGleek
Summary: Oneshot. Rated T, because I'm paranoid. Not romance by any means. / Today Emma has a front row view of Kurt climbing out of the dumpster.


_A/N: This is so long overdue :(. I'm sorry._

_Written for lil-miss-chocolate as a gift for being my 100th reviewer for _Drabbles A La Glee_._

_I hope you enjoy!_

_-0-0-_

She's kept a close eye on him ever since the April Rhodes incident when he puked on her shoes. (Even just the memory of it makes her shudder.) Though, in truth, she could probably say that she's been trying to look out for him ever since he entered high school.

Kurt … stands out, to put it kindly. And while she certainly didn't make any judgments or jump to any conclusions about his sexual orientation, the entire student body did so almost immediately. She hates to think about any child being hurt for any reason whatsoever … but to be persecuted so unfairly based on nothing but such prejudiced hate? It's inhumane at the very least, and unfortunately not very uncommon in such close-minded, small town communities as Lima.

Close eye or not, she's never actually caught his tormentors in the act. She's seen the remnants of the 'pranks' played upon him; him walking through the halls either coated with slushie or smelling of garbage. Today, however, she has a front row view of him climbing out of the dumpster.

She's repulsed by the trash, and has to close her eyes for a second and take a few deep breaths (through the mouth, of course, to avoid the putrid stench) to keep herself from having a panic attack. She regains control quickly, however, and is overcome to by her nature to help; (the reason she chose to become a guidance counselor in the first place).

"Kurt," she calls, rushing over in the awkwardly brisk walk that only those who've attempted to run in heels can sympathize with. She stops just short of him as he hoists himself out of the bin and onto the pavement. He brushes a banana peel off of his shoulder with a small murmur of disgust, before grabbing his discarded Marc Jacobs bag and holding it a ginger length away from his body so as to keep it clean. She can see him take a deep breath before looking up at her.

"Good morning, Mrs. P," he says, plastering a small smile on his face. "How are you this morning?"

She doesn't answer, choosing to simply quirk an eyebrow at him. He continues to return her gaze, refusing to acknowledge what they both know is a carefully crafted act on his part. "I'm not blind, Kurt," she tells him quietly. "And I'm certainly not stupid," she adds with a humorless smile while still remaining gentle.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he tells her, as he obviously struggles to keep himself collected. Another fake smile slides into place. "I dropped something in the dumpster, and was merely trying to find it."

"Don't lie to me, Kurt," she pleads. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened."

His eyes flash dangerously at her words. "Do you really think you can help me anyways?" he asks her a tad bitterly. "I know how the system at this school works. Nothing sticks; nothing matters. Reporting the things that go on doesn't do any good. When Rachel or any of us – but mostly Rachel – gets slushied in the hallways, do you think that the teachers don't see it?" She's quiet, biting her tongue. Forced to listen to the facts, she can't honestly deny them; as much as she wishes that they weren't true. "They see. And yet, they don't do a thing about it."

It's a sad truth. Too many of the teachers at this school don't bother to mix themselves up in the 'drama', instead choosing to overlook and ignore blatant bullying.

She can't speak for the other teachers, but she can speak for herself. "I'll do something about it," she vows, earnestly. "I'll do whatever it takes. You just have to tell me what's going on, Kurt. I can't do a thing without some kind of proof."

Kurt shakes his head sadly, looking away. "And then what? Karofsky and Azimio' will get a week of detention, _maybe_ a three-day suspension if I'm lucky. And then it'll only get that much worse." Shaking his head again, this time roughly, he adds, "This right now, I can deal with. I've _been_ dealing with it since a month into freshman year. But I don't think I'd be able to deal with 'worse'."

She frowns, sighing slightly. (She wonders if he knows that he's just given up the names of his tormentors; she doesn't think so.) "I don't know how," she mutters quietly, before vowing more clearly, "But I'll do something to make it better. I promise." It's his turn to frown, because he's not sure he likes the sound of that. 'Doing something' could very well turn out to do more harm than good, in the end. But she doesn't give him a chance to voice those fears. "And I think you should stop by my office one day soon, Kurt … to make an appointment. I'd really like to talk to you," she tells him gently, trying hard to catch his gaze. "Because I'm not so sure that you _have_ been dealing with it." _Not properly, anyways_, she adds on in her mind.

He doesn't respond to anything she's said, choosing instead to deflect. It's something he picked up on at the age of nine, and has never been more thankful for. She can see right through it, of course, when he says, "I should really be getting to class," but she doesn't push it. As she watches him swiftly walk away from her and into the hallowed halls that have forever been his prison, she figures that she's done enough of that for the moment.

Besides, right now she needs to have a little talk with Figgins.

-0-0-

It's the talk of school for days.

No one's quite sure why or how Karofsky and Azimio have come to be indefinitely expelled from WMHS. Not to say that there aren't plenty of rumors floating around, of course. But the only person aware of the full truth is Emma. She doesn't even think Figgins knows exactly how she managed to get him to sign off on that one; but he did, and trying to go back on that now would only make him appear self-doubtful of his own decisions and unfit to be principle. (Which he is, really; she doesn't have a clue how he got to be principle of anything. But he's not about to do anything to get himself kicked out of a steady job, however much he hates doing it – and sucks at it.)

She doesn't doubt that she's done a good thing … however questionable her methods may be. All one has to do is look at the bright smile on Rachel's face as she goes from an average of six slushies a week to one and a half to know that something revolutionary has been accomplished here. (It's not an infinite cure, by any means … but it's definitely a start, in any case.)

The smile she's most concerned about, though, isn't nearly as bright. But it's most definitely there.

The smile on her own face is almost uncontrollable when Kurt makes an appointment to speak with her. And while he never actually says the words 'thank you', they're written all over his face.

She doesn't need his thanks, though, or anyone else's; because she only did what somebody should have accomplished long ago.

_-0-0-_

_Please review!_


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